


mac & dennis dine out

by golden_geese



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: M/M, MacDennis - Freeform, also this waitress isnt The Waitress, high school fic, i got all these names from that one episode where they're trying to throw a party, iasip - Freeform, iasip high school era, mac and dennis are dicks for doing it (but we knew they were dicks already), mac/dennis - Freeform, please don't dine and dash it's a very very bad thing to do, this can be read platonically or kind of shippy it's up to you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 03:57:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16442540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/golden_geese/pseuds/golden_geese
Summary: it's the last day of junior year-- the perfect occasion for a big group dinner with all the guys. or it would be, if anyone other than mac and dennis bothered showing up. a tradition is born.





	mac & dennis dine out

**_Monday_ **

“Mac,” Dennis says carelessly. His tone doesn’t imply he really has anything to say; it sounds like he’s just saying Mac’s name for the sake of saying Mac’s name. But Mac replies anyway.

“Yeah?”

“I was talking to Schmidty,” he says. “We’re going to go out to dinner to celebrate the last day of school on Friday.”

“Okay,” Mac says, blinking.

“Are you in? We’re going to get Stash, Dooly, and Sully in on it.”

“Sure,” Mac says, nodding. “Sounds good. Where are we eating?”

“Just some diner. Milkshakes and burgers type thing. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah. I’ll tell Charlie when I’m at his house tomorrow.”

“Dope.” Dennis takes a long drag off the joint they’re passing back and forth. “Can’t believe it, man. Next time we come to school we’ll be seniors.”

“Yeah,” Mac says, accepting the joint as Dennis passes it back. “Crazy.” He takes a pull. It’s hot in Philly, and getting hotter-- the sun is high in the sky and so vibrant that Mac even has to squint a little from under the bleachers. He rips a handful of grass out and sprinkles it onto Dennis’ backpack slowly.

“You’re boring,” Dennis says out of nowhere a minute or two later.

“I’m boring?” Mac erupts. “You’re boring. You’re just sitting there!”

“You’re just sitting there.”

“Do you even have anything interesting to say, or are you just being a dick and deflecting?”

“I got tons of shit to say,” Dennis insists, taking the joint back. “I just don’t need to say it to you all the time. Dick.”

“Oh, yeah, Dennis? Name one thing you have to say.”

“It’s not like you have anything to say,” Dennis argues loudly.

“Fuck you,” Mac says.

“Fuck you.”

Both hazed by weed, they crack up, argument effectively over.

**_Tuesday_ **

“Thirty, right?”

“Thirty,” Mac confirms with a nod, thinking about how very much this transaction looks like a drug deal, between their hoodies, the fact that they’re standing in an alley, and, well, the fact that it is a drug deal-- but Mac couldn’t wait around Charlie’s house forever, and Sully was running late, so eventually Mac had to just call the guy and tell him to meet near Mac’s place instead.

A crumpled twenty, two crumpled fives, and a little plastic bag of weed change hands.

“Thanks,” Sully says, pocketing the little bag.

“Yeah. You in for dinner this weekend? I was thinking we could light up after, maybe catch a movie at the drive in.”

“Can’t,” Sully sighs. “It’s my sister’s graduation party. We have a bunch of family staying with us.”

“Oh, shit,” Mac says, brows furrowing a little. “Too bad.”

“Yeah-- but you guys have fun though,” Sully says as he turns to leave. 

Mac makes a mental note to tell Dennis tomorrow. He starts toward home, trying to study in his head for the final exam he has tomorrow-- but it only lasts like thirty seconds before his thoughts turn to where he might find a summer job, then to what he and Dennis and Charlie could do this summer-- maybe a road trip, he muses as he wanders through Philadelphia. Maybe he could get Dennis to drive them to the Jersey Shore or the Poconos or something. But then, it might be difficult to get Charlie out of Philly.

By the time he makes it home he’s forgotten what he was supposed to tell Dennis.

**_Wednesday_ **

“Stash is out,” Dennis says lazily, making the world’s sloppiest left-hand turn in his new Range Rover.

“Out of what?” Mac asks.

“Dinner thing on Friday. Everyone else is still in, though.”

“Dope.”

**_Thursday_ **

Mac walks out of his Spanish final, hands shoved in his pockets. He knows he couldn’t have gotten better than a C. He hardly knows any Spanish, and it’s not like Mr. Meyers is any help, considering his preoccupation with arranging seating charts in a way that places all the bustier girls in the front row. But whatever. If he passed, that’s good enough.

“Yo, Ronnie!”

He turns, annoyed at the use of his first name. He almost doesn’t want to. Maybe if he stops responding to it, people will stop using it. “Yeah. Hey, Dooly.”

“How’d you do in there?” Dooly asks, shoving his arm through the strap of his ugly bright green backpack.

“Okay, I think. You?”

“No me gusta,” Dooly says. “Anyway-- just gotta tell you I’m dropping out tomorrow night, I gotta get shit ready for camping on Saturday. Later,” he adds as he heads the opposite way Mac is going.

He’ll have to let Dennis know, he thinks. For a second, he almost remembers that he was supposed to tell Dennis something else too-- but he doesn’t.

**_Friday_ **

His last final done, Mac heads to the diner to meet the guys, drenched in a fresh coat of Axe body spray.

He turns the corner and his eyes land on Dennis, carelessly lounging against the side of the storefront, his overgrown curly hair tossing a little in the breeze. He always looks so cool, Mac can’t help but notice. 

“Hey,” Dennis says when he sees Mac. “We must be early. Where are the rest of the guys?”

Mac looks at his shitty digital watch. “We’re late, dude. It’s six-forty-three.”

“Yikes,” Dennis says. “I mean, I know Stash couldn’t make it… and Schmidty had something come up, so he can’t either.”

“Uh-- Dooly maybe told me he can’t come,” Mac remembers. “And Sully.”

“Wait, they did? Huh. Well-- there’s still Charlie.”

“Yeah. There’s still Charlie. Let’s give him a few minutes.” He glances at his watch again; six-thirty, they were supposed to meet. Charlie isn’t a particularly punctual person, but it isn’t like him to be this late. That’s Mac’s thing.

It’s hot outside, though-- even though Mac’s shirt doesn’t have sleeves, he’s starting to get uncomfortable. Especially after having to walk over. He wipes sweat off his forehead.

“Charlie’s coming, right?” Dennis asks eventually.

“I, uh-- I told him, so…”

“No you didn’t,” Dennis says, his eyes narrowing. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

“No! I… look, Den, we were huffing glue… I thought I told him but I guess I might not have… or maybe he forgot to come.”

“Unbelievable,” Dennis huffs. “You two were each other’s only friend until you met me. How did you make it? You’re both dumbasses. You don’t even balance each other’s lack of intelligence out.”

“I had other friends,” Mac insists. “Maybe Charlie didn’t want to come tonight because you’re a dick and he didn’t want to hang out with you.”

“Maybe he didn’t come because you’re a dick,” Dennis counters.

“I’m not the dick, you’re the dick,” Mac argues, crossing his arms. His voice breaks a little bit as he speaks.

“If this is just going to be you and me, let’s make it more interesting,” Dennis says, clearly over the whole dick argument thing.

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s dine and dash.”

“Aw, Dennis-- it’s risky.”

“What are you afraid of? You’ve been to juvie. Your mom isn’t going to give a shit.”

“I don’t know, man,” Mac sighs.

“Please?”

His eyes go wide when he wants something. His pupils dilate, crowding out some of their baby blue. Mac tries for a second to avoid Dennis’ eyes-- the exuberant glimmer in them is too goddamn convincing. 

“Fine,” he concedes.

“Yeah! Let’s have a contest. See who can come up with a cooler idea to get out of paying. I already got one. I gotta go to that thrift store down the street first.”

“What’s your idea?”

“I’m not telling you,” Dennis insists. “Just go in there, act like you’re alone. Sit at the counter. I’ll be here in a second, and I’ll sit next to you, and we’ll pretend we don’t know each other. It’ll be fun, man. I’ll be right back.”

Mac doesn’t reply-- Dennis is already halfway down the block. He shakes his head a little, trying to think of his own plan-- after a minute or two he comes up with one. Once the necessary outdoor prep work is done, he heads inside and sits down where Dennis told him to. The restaurant isn’t too busy, but there are already three people sitting at the counter-- Mac sits in the only empty chair that has another empty chair next to it.

He orders a milkshake when the waitress comes for his drink order. Dennis comes in while Mac is looking at the food menu. He’s wearing a red jacket-- which is not at all weather appropriate, considering the fact that it’s around eighty degrees. He takes it off, drapes it across the back of the chair next to Mac, and sits down. 

“You come up with an idea?” He mutters quietly to Mac.

“Yeah. But I’m not telling you either.”

“Whatever,” Dennis says. “Mine is foolproof.”

The waitress comes back with Mac’s strawberry milkshake just then, so they pretend not to know each other. Dennis picks up a newspaper from the counter and starts reading it. She leaves, so they talk for a little-- bitching about their finals, talking about what movie they want to see after dinner, making fun of people. Then, very abruptly, Dennis stops laughing and turns back to his newspaper. Mac glances behind his shoulder-- the waitress is coming back.

“Do we know what we want to eat yet?”

“Yeah, I’ll have a BLT and fries,” Mac says.

“And you?” The waitress asks, turning to Dennis.

“Oh, me? Sure. I’ll have a cheeseburger with no onions and extra pickles, and tater tots,” Dennis says, handing her his laminated menu, which had a mysterious sticky spot on it. “Thanks, honey.”

For a second Mac thinks it’s unbelievably suave to have the confidence to be a seventeen year old boy calling a girl in her early twenties “honey” when you don’t even know her, but the he remembers Dennis is a dick.

Their food comes soon, and they start eating it, taking care not to talk to each other when the waitress is around. Mac silently justifies that the scam he’s about to do is okay because the bacon was too chewy anyway. 

He glances around to make sure no one will see before taking the dead moth out of his pocket and putting it into the pile of remaining fries. Dennis watches him, smirking a little. He nods once in approval.

The waitress comes back just then, smiling, holding two little receipt trays. “Are you two ready for your checks?”

“If it’s no trouble, I’d like to get an iced tea really quick,” Dennis says pleasantly. 

“Of course,” she says. “I’ll have that out for you in just a second. And you, hon? Are you ready for your check?”

“Yeah, uh-- I wanted to talk to you about that,” Mac says, frowning. He picks up his unused knife and uses it to prod the dead moth. “I was like, eating this like normal-- and then I moved a fry and I saw that there was a dead moth in my food the whole time… that’s pretty nasty…”

“Oh my gosh,” she says, frowning, coming closer to see. “That’s… I’m so sorry, I don’t know how that got there! Can I… uh, I can take fifty percent off your bill?”

“I already had to deal with finding out I’d been eating dead moth food,” Mac says impatiently, “and now you’re going to make me pay for it too? I could tell your manager that you served this to me. Or I could call the health department.”

She shuffles her feet a little, clearly stressed. “No, no, that’s not necessary-- it’s on the house, okay? I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” Mac says, nodding once, standing to leave. “Thank you.” He starts toward the door slowly, but stops to pretend to read a flyer on the wall so he can spy on Dennis for another second.

“I’m just going to take a quick smoke break outside while you get me that tea,” Dennis says, smiling sweetly as he stands up. Mac understands what the coat was for now-- he’s leaving it on the back of the chair so it looks like he’ll be right back.

“Course. I’ll go grab that for you.”

Mac casually wanders outside. A moment later, Dennis comes out, sans coat-- he has a chaotic grin at his lips, and the shine of victory in his eyes. The two of them walk fast, heading around the corner to Dennis’ car. He maneuvers them out of the parallel spot and away from the diner quickly, both of them chuckling about a scheme well done.

“I clearly won that,” Dennis comments a few streets away.

“You put up a good competition, but I think I won it,” Mac argues. “You had to sneak away. I got to walk out of there, out in the open, like a champion.”

“Mine was more manipulative. I had her eating oatmeal out of the palm of my hand.”

“Eating-- why would she be eating oatmeal out of your hand, bro?”

Dennis half-shrugs, still grinning smugly as he drives. “I got an idea,” he says. “We’ll explain what happened to Charlie next time we’re all together and he can be the judge.”

“Fine,” Mac says, knowing full well he can get Charlie to choose him.

“That was pretty fun, though,” Dennis says. “We should start doing that more often. Maybe once a month. It can be our monthly dinner.”

“Okay,” Mac says, nodding, grinning a little. “Sure. Monthly dinners. Let’s do it.”


End file.
